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Whatcha Buyin
You receive a radio message from First Aid: You send a radio message to First Aid: General Cross speaking. What do you need, First Aid? You receive a radio message from First Aid: Hi boss, the Protectobots are planning a Safety Awareness Day for students at Autobot City next month after the Olympics. You know, one of those field trips to see Metroplex and also imprint the importance of buckling up on them. We were wondering if you or any of your EDCers were interested in joining us? I know it would mean a lot to the kids to see Earth Defence Command represented. You send a radio message to First Aid: It may not be possible for me to attend in the timeframe you describe. However, I can suggest Captain Andi Lassiter in my place; she's probably better with kids anyway if her background is any indication. You receive a radio message from First Aid: Oh, sure! Andi's fantastic with children. Ah, that reminds me: Do you prefer Frank or Franklin? You send a radio message to First Aid: Ah, Franklin will do. You receive a radio message from First Aid: Thanks, Franklin. I know it'll mean a lot to the kids to have an EDC presence there. They really look up to you guys. You send a radio message to First Aid: ... You receive a radio message from First Aid: I'm being serious! Think about it: Earth Defence Command is this world's way of standing up and showing the galactic community that humanity can't be pushed around. You send a radio message to First Aid: *after a long pause* Yes. That's true. You receive a radio message from First Aid: Anyhow, I'll let you get back to your work. Talk to you later, Franklin. Chicago! Much of it is an impoverished hellhole, but hey, part of the city at least still looks nice. Like this part of the city, where military contractors are holding a convention--with the Navy's permission--inside a gym at the Naval Station Great Lakes. Being such a large structure, there's plenty of room even for giant robots to stomp around, though none are present at the moment. Everywhere one can look are displays of prototypes of handheld gear, with the level of practicality inolved varying wildly. And of course, Franklin Cross is there to inspect the goods. "Look at all of this," he remarks to whatever entourage he has, which may or may not include a Quintesson. "The things they come up with, I swear." He points at a mannequin posed as if he's swinging a bolo. "Bolos? Those things aren't even long enough to wrap around a Decepticon's legs, and if they were, they'd be too long to throw!" You send a radio message to First Aid: Of course... Buzzsaw has arrived. "Not -everythin'- here is made fer fightin' Decepticons, y'know," Talia points out from just behind him. "They may be the big thin' on our plate, but there's still ol' homegrown threats to worry 'bout too." Pauses, leaning forward a bit and tugging down her sunglasses to eye the display over the frames. ".. Now, if ya had a cannon that could -launch- somethin' like that. M'be make 'em magnetic...." Combat: Buzzsaw slips into the shadows and out of sight... Apocryphacius points out pleasantly, "Sir, most human militaries remain in the business of attempting to kill other humans." He is nearly bouncing, in fact. "Those who fight non-biological entities remain a niche market. Most of what is here will be useless to your purposes. Of what is actually aimed at you, most of it will be useless, anyway." He snags one of the free keychains from one of the booths, holding it up with a tentacle. Oh yes, all those keys he doesn't have are going on this baby. Ah, Urban Impoverished Hellholes! Buzzsaw LOVES Impoverished Urban Hellholes! There's so many places to hide, which makes Sneakery much easier. This is why the metallic cassette-bird is currently making its careful way towards the Party of Weapons. Hopefully, no one's paid attention to the bird as it settles on a windowsill, unfolding a camera and Space Laser Microphone to record just what's going on inside. Weapons weapons weapons /Quintesson and General/. Interesting. Shifting a bit, Buzzsaw focuses in on the ensuing conversation with menacing unblinking eyes. Franklin Cross picks up a pair of sample bolos from a display table. An attractive female representative smiles and is about to say something, but Franklin doesn't even pay attention to her as he replies, "True, Ms. McKinley, but for fighting other humans, or perhaps subduing them harmlessly, I'd prefer something more practical, like one of those shotgun shells that contain a taser in them. Then again, firing them out of a cannon? That might work, but then you'd have to carefully design them so that they'd don't simply flop onto the ground in a tangled heap. Probably more complicated than it's worth." He drops the bolos onto the table without saying a word to the representative, who looks devastated at the criticism. "You're right, though, Apocryphacius, the EDC isn't in the business of killing humans. Not if we can avoid it." Apocryphacius steeples a pair of tentacles and considers, "I suppose one must consider the eventuality of fighting Decepticon-allied Nebulans. I would so dearly love a chance to study their physiology. Their secondary hearts and resistance to mercury make them so fascinatingly durable. Perhaps a template for human improvement." He eyes Talia and General Cross, as if contemplating how difficult it would be to slot extra hearts into their chests. Then he snags a free mug from another table and pauses to study its wares. Brown note acoustic cannons? Oh dear. Very much not useful in fighting Decepticons. Talia McKinley still isn't quite sure what to think of a Quintesson following them around, but hey, his credentials check out. Kind of odd feeling though. "He's got a point." Nods her head back Apoc. "Iffen yer lookin' for hardware, ya gotta look at what we're dealin' with. Big machines from space and all. That turn into cars and planes." Idly she walks over to a gun display and picks up a rifle. It's not actually loaded by it still makes a nice *chuchunk* when she cocks it. "Heavy duty .50 caliber rifle. Back in the Guard we used babies like this to disable fleein' vehicles." Holds it up to sight it. "Mmm, little off to the left ... 'Course y'all would need something with more oomph to shoot atta 'Con, but being they're big machines, same principle would apply. Hit somethin' critical with 'nuff firepower; everythin's got a breakin' point." James Bailey arrives from the Outskirts of Chicago. James Bailey has arrived. Franklin Cross makes an angry face, but only briefly, at the mention of Nebulans. "I hope you're not considering what I think you are, Apocryphacius. I was hoping on improving relations with the Nebulans in the future, as they have no more love of the Decepticons than we do. *Sadly* the woman who could've served as an excellent liason for them decided to behave in an unprofessional fashion, so that may be more difficult now." Cross steps up to the display with the .50 cal rifle, rubbing his chin. "Hm, a good choice. May also be useful against some of the smaller ones. Still, I'm not really much of a sniper, Captain MicKinley, and if there's a Decepticon within reaching distance of me I'm not going to have time to aim precisely. I need... something that might help in a desperate situation." Talia McKinley snorts slightly in bemusement at the sniper remark as she sets the rifle back on the display, ignoring the look the attendant gives her for the comment about the sights being off.... and then picking it up to find out she's right when she turns away to face the others. "Ev'ryone assumes precise aim means havin' to sit and wait forever. But Ah reckon ya still got a point. Ya want somethin' that can hit hard with less... fussin'." "Sir, I would never hope what you are insinuating that I may have considered," Apocryphacius demurs innocently and obfuscatingly. The anger is interesting. Is Cross made that he brought it up? Does he just not like aliens? Not like the thought of Apocryphacius experimenting on Nebulans? Not like the thought of Apocryphacius experimenting on /humans/? Yes? He narrows his optics and points out, "Desperate situations, sir? I would hope you would /avoid/ those, which would thusly render any such back-up weapon dead weight the majority of the time. However, given your tank's unfortunate habit of losing power, perhaps a weapon that does not require any power at all? Such as..." he looks around and spies... "...armour-piercing spikes?" James Bailey appears at the edge of the gym, examining a table filled with larger weapons that typically require the use of a bipod or mounting on a vehicle. Indeed, James can barely get one of the guns off of their displays. Something the nearest vendor points out in irritation until James replaces it again. Up on his perch, Buzzsaw shifts a bit, shuffling to the side as he pans the camera over the gym at large, cheerfully recording details of weapons for later analysis. After all, if they know how the humans fight, they know how to defeat them! He still has that Space Microphone mostly aimed at the CDC commander and his friends, but idly pans another about to snag other conversation for later usage. Franklin Cross scratches his chin. "Hm. Maybe, Ms. McKinley. Or perhaps something that will just help me get away from one of the damn things." He peers at the display Apocryphacius is staring at. "Of *course* Apocryphacius. Now what's that about the armor-piercing spikes? Am I supposed to... punch the robots with them? How do they work?" And as it so happens James Bailey is at an adjacent display! Cross, recognizing him, decides to approach him. "Colonel Bailey, excellent. What do you think of all this so far? These contractors seem to get more desperate all the time. I remember when I was--nevermind. Anyway, does any of this look promising to you? I need infantry weapons that could prove useful against the Decepticons, not gimmicky toys." James Bailey runs his eye over the nearest displays, nodding slowly. "I'm not sure if weapons alone is going to do the job, General. I don't see a lot of defensive technology on display here..." Apocryphacius takes a moment to consider that, 'I remember when I was--nevermind.' Hrm. He suggests, "I was more thinking armour-piercing spikes to be mounted on your Jump Tank to prevent Decepticons from grabbing and lifting your vehicle, sir. At close range, your cannon may be unable to fire upon more melee-oriented opponents." He snags some magnets from a different booth, which is selling high pressure water whips. Talia McKinley nudges her shades back into place on her nose. "Nothin' seems to say 'don't mess with me' more to those punks that being able to hit them hard enough to make 'em think twice." Then stuffs her hands in her pockets as she ambles after the General. "True," she comments to Apoc. "Big vehicle guns tend to be long range engagements. Though Ah reckon he's also lookin' for on-foot options." Franklin Cross nods in agreement with James, frowning. "Yes, I'm starting to wonder if I wasted my time coming here. Maybe it's always best to rely on vehicles to fight the Decepticons--trying to do it on foot may be futile, it seems. Or is it?..." He notices a distant display and begins to walk towards it. "An interesting suggestion, Apocryphacius, but I think that the spikes may cause more harm than good. They may catch on terrain, especially trees, and for all I know a Decepticon might impale one of his hands on the damn things and at that point he might not let go even if he wanted to. Hm..." The display he's looking is hawking something called the "Dazer Lazer Mk. IV!" There's some display models of a fairly small, submachinegun-sized device that looks almost like a fancy video game light gun. Cross watches a video of two very bad actors, one of them dressed as a security guard and the other as a deranged man advancing towards him. "I said STOP sirrrr!" says the guard as he points the device at his assailant, and there's a cheesy, 80's-esque special effect of the laser sweeping across his face and getting into his eyes. "Yeeargh!" the deranged man says, his advance becoming a confused stumble that makes him easy prey for an arrest. Apocryphacius just knows that Decepticons manhandling the Jump Tank is a legit concern because he has personally seen it happen. He says flatly, "Aside from the ever-popular option of running between their legs...? Shaped charges might be more effective at disabling them at close range than bolos," he sounds a bit disdainful, "and remain relatively light and compact." That said, Apocryphacius snags some pens from a booth selling landmines. Buzzsaw digs talons into the side of the gym, scuttling from window-to-window to keep up with the CDC Purchasing Party, blinking yellow eyes as he refocuses his Space Spy Bird Stuff on the new booth of interest, idly tucking away observations as he moves. Dup de dup dup, pay no attention to the clinging condor peeking around windows dup de dup dup. The notion of bombs being applied to bodyparts is vaguely worrying. Buzzsaw hopes it happens to Laserbeak instead. Talia McKinley glances around at some of the other gun displays. "Maybe someone has a bot bustin' version of the CQBR..." But when she turns back to Cross he's already wandering to another display. "Howdy, James," she greets the other officer with a polite tip of her hat, then ambles after the General. "... terrible actin', but that concept might have merit," she offers after the little similation is over. "Their optical sensors can be sensative to flashing light, just as our eyes are." Cocks a wry smirk as she looks to Cross. "Ya feel like givin' the enemy siezures?" Franklin Cross picks up one of the Dazer Lazers, appraising. "Apocryphacius, for someone who seems so concerned for my safety that's an odd suggestion. Planting charges directly onto a Decepticon would be incredibly dangerous, though effective if you put it onto a vital spot. Hm. And as a matter of fact, I do feel like giving them seizures, Captain." He addresses the attendee. "Have you tested these on military sensors?" The attendee, another woman, replies, "Why, yes, sir! The sweeping laser light will temporarily blind even the most rugged military optics!" Cross smiles. "Excellent. I'll take one of these..." He grabs the contractor's business card from the table. "...and I may order some of these devices for my men. Might even take one for myself! After all..." He glances at Apocryphacius. "My safety is paramount, right?" Apocryphacius takes apart one of the free pens, removes the ink cartridge, and replaces it with a slender syringe. Then he reassembles the pen with the syringe hidden inside. Apocryphacius clicks it and lets a glistening needle protrude. Then he clicks it again to hide the needle, making it again appear to be an ordinary pen. Apocryphacius does all of this idly while examining some Balefire missiles, compatible with most modern fighter jets! When Talia suggests seizures, he suggests brightly, "Why not do one better than seizures? Why not show them an image they literally cannot understand to cause them to suffer a complete processor meltdown?" But no one is selling those here, so he quiets down and assures, "Your safety is indeed paramount, sir! But if you are already in the situation of engaging a Decepticon without a vehicle, you are inherently in an unsafe situation." While Cross is making deals for guns that make a rave look like a ballroom dance, Talia wanders over to a different boot displaying something other than guns. Instead this layout is of various accessories such as scopes, silencers, recoil compensation units and the like. But something else catchs her eye, and after a few comments with the attendant she turns and calls over her shoulder, "Hey chief, come here for a moment. Ah reckon Ah found somethin' else ya might find interesting." Franklin Cross gives Apocryphacius an odd look. "Heh, interesting idea, though showing someone horrors from the beyond is perhaps a bit too... unconventional? And yes, I know, but it may happen whether I want it to or not and if it does I need to be prepared." Talia calls him over, and Cross approaches, brows perked up in interest. "Oh? Is that so?" He looks at the items on display. "Looks like fairly standard gear to me..." He may need the special item pointed out to him! Talia McKinley merely smirks a bit at that. "Ah thought so too. But that was just a reason to ask." She nods to the attendant, whom half-crouchs briefly to reach under the table and pull out a metallic case. Once set upon the tabletop she unlocks and opens it, revealing a set of rather high-tech attatchments. "This is our latest series of laser and holographic targeting systems," the woman starts to explain in a voice that's appropriately sweet sounding but entirely business-like. "Holographic imaged sights can be projected onto a reticle viewfinder, or even directly to the shooter's eye or," she gestures towards Talia's sunglasses, "eyewear, reducing focusing time and eliminating the need for a 'physical' aiming point that traditional metal sights have. The electronic hardware," she jesters at a small module in the case, "can also be modified with a transmitter unit that allows the tactical data collected by the sights to be relayed to others with appropriate recieving hardware, or if close enough, the holographic readout itself." "Ah have somethin' similar on my sidearm," Talia chips in after the pitch is over with. "Mine's geared specifically for aim'in', but ya can get variations for pinpoitin' vulnerabilities as well." Apocryphacius gives General Cross a blank look, like he fails to understand what he said that was so weird. He suggests hesitantly, "I thought that the mandate of the day was to win by any means necessary, sir." A pair of tentacles go up in a confused gesture, wriggling with uncertainty. He peers at what Talia has found. Franklin Cross wonders why so many of the representatives are female. Then he chides himself--of course they're female, sex sells, right? Though honestly he's offended that they seriously believe that will work on him. "Now, I assume you have versions for both ground personnel and vehicles?" he asks the rep. "Yes, but, well," Cross says back to Apocryphacius, "What I think I really meant was reliable. An image that might fry a Decepticon's laser core might have no effect on another species. In addition, some Cybertronians, I'm sure, are no longer of sound mind regardless and may be unaffected by further attempts to destabilize their minds." MEANWHILE Repugnus is waving in some gumbies into his office now that he's in charge of Intel. "Good, good, now hang the fifty-foot inflatable walrus doll from the light fixture. Yes, yes, get that loop around its neck. Just like that." One of the gumbies, being understandably unnerved, says, "Sir... why are we doing this?" But Repugnus just says, "Shh shh, don't ask why. It ruins the mood." Scattershot has arrived. +POT Scattershot is now observing. "Vehicular variants are possible as well, modified to acclimate the weapon systems one intends to use them with," the woman replies without hesitation even as she closes the case again. She may be easy on the eyes, but she clearly knows her stuff too. Though that gets Talia to perk up slightly, hmmmm softly to herself. She may have to look into -that- aspect of the hardware herself, later. The Firehawk's autocannon does have it's own sighting arrays, but they're not independant of the weapon itself. "Interestin'. Ya got the writin' on the specs fo--" The woman briskly pulls out a couple of technical brochures and hands one to Talia before she can even finish asking. "--Thank ya kindly miss." Apocryphacius blinks and stutters, "I, ah, was thinking that an image that causes Decepticons to have mental breakdowns but is harmless to humans would be ideal. No chance of friendly fire, sir." He twiddles a pair of tentacles together and looks away, not wanting to hit a sore spot. Apocryphacius puts away his syringe-pen and looks at his magnet, his mug, and his keyring. "Would they not need to have minds in the first place to lose them?" That gets another smile out of Cross, who grabs their card as well. "Excellent. We'll be in touch with you. Thank you." He rubs his chin. "Well, maybe coming here wasn't a total waste of time after all. That's two good selections so far, and good eye on this one, Ms. McKinley." Cross gives Apocryphacius an annoyed look, though whether it's for the friendly fire remark or the bit about minds isn't clear. "*Simulated* minds. Ultimately, it's like any other computer. A few bad lines of code, a hardware fault, or unexpected input and it crashes. Same general principle." Then, Cross is approached by an extremely attractive blonde... man, who looks like he would be perfect for the cover of a romance novel, or maybe used as a character model for a manga, or something like that. "Excuse me, sir? You're General Cross of the EDC, right?" "I... am," Cross says, giving the man a funny look. "Could you please follow me?" the man says. "If you're in the market for something that can fight giant robots, well, we've got something for you!" He walks off, and Cross, giving the others a 'Well, let's just see what this is about' sort of look, follows. Ahhhh great now they're moving again! Pulling himself along by beak and claws, Buzzsaw settles up under the roof's edge, scurrying along the edge of the rooftop to try and keep up with Cross' party. He ascertains he's going in the right direction by peeking in windows from time to time, squawking under his breath in disgruntlement. How dare his targets have the poor grace to MOVE when he's spying on them!? So very RUDE. Harrumph. Still, at least he's gotten a few useful tidbits so far! "Glad to help, sir." Talia resumes her usual easy-going demeaner as she ambles after the others, though part of her attention has gone to looking over the technical specs she was handed. The attractiveness of the booth man is rather lost upon Apocryphacius. Sure, he can tell humans apart, but he is not in the business of rank ordering them by attractiveness. It has never been important to his work. He just follows along because Cross is following, quiet, since he seems to be fumbling his words lately. The extremely sexy, ravishing young man leads them to an exhibit all the way in the corner. There's some sort of cheap looking, ten foot-tall robot there, and a table featuring a bulky device that, much like the Dazer Lazer, looks like some kind of video game accessory except for the fact that there's no barrel or aperture or anything on the business end of the weapon, so what exactly it's supposed to shoot is a mystery. Well, maybe not entirely, since a stand proclaims it to be the "MAGNETIC DISRUPTOR! Busts those bots GOOD!" or so the tagline goes. The hawt man explains, "General, I'm sure our Magnetic Disruptor is what you need. Just watch and see what it can do." He picks up a remote, pointing it at the robot before pressing a button, which causes the robot to make its arms flap up and down slowly, like it's performing some extremely unenthusiastic jumping jacks. "Now, watch what happens when I use the Magnetic Disruptor on it!" "Wait," Cross says. "Is that thing safe to fire in here? This is no firing range" "Sure!" the man says confidently. "It doesn't fire bullets or lasers or whatever. What it does is create a magnetic field *inside the target,* damaging its internal components and making it more difficult to move. Like this!" He aims and fires the Magnetic Disruptor at the robot, and though there's no visible "beam" from the weapon to the robot, the robot suddenly shudders, and its arms snap back down to its sides. It tries hard to open them up again, its body shaking, but it's no use. Eventually, the metal on its body begins to cave inwards to some invisible force! And finally the unbelievably attractive man releases the trigger, and the robot begins flapping its arms again until deactivated by the remote. "See?" Cross smiles for the third time today, and for him that's a new record. "I'm very impressed. What do you two think?" "Oooh, magnetic induction..." Apcryphacius coos, optics wide, while he uncoils his keyring into a straight piece of metal. "Smaller chance of shrapnel resulting due to the damage being internal, which would reduce collateral damage. How tidy." Apocryphacius transforms into his Apocryphacius mode. Talia McKinley actually has a rather sharp grin on her face after the demonstration. "Remember what Ah said earlier 'bout weapons that can muck up critical stuff inside of 'em, sir? Ah do believe y'all found one such thing." Franklin Cross nods. "Agreed. I could use this weapon pointblank at no risk to myself. I don't think it'll hurt enough to kill a Decepticon, but if it can restrict his movements by this weapon, it may give me the chance I need to escape his grasp." He nods at Talia. "Yes, indeed. And despite what I said, I could imagine this thing doing some serious damage if multiple soldiers were firing them at the same target." Plucking a card off the table, Cross tells the attendant, "Looks like we'll be doing business with you." "Oh, thank you, oh gosh, thank you!" the attendant says, smiling, bouncing up and down, and giggling effeminately. He even lets out a little squee. Cross's lips tighten as he stares at the odd, but still very sexy man. Ooh Mister Weapons Contractor! Fortunately the tilt of her hat and the mirror-lense sunglasses conceal most of Talia's expression at the fellow getting more giddy than some of the 'booth babes' did. "... Iffen y'all need me, ah'll be over there lookin' at the rocket an' grenade launchers." Prompt heel turn and trot away. Muttering something about pretty boys breakin' too easily under her breath. Apocryphacius vaguely picks up on social cues from Cross and Talia to understand that there is something odd about Mister Weapons Contractor, but he still cannot precisely grasp the nature of the oddity. He busies himself grabbing a sheet on the technical specifications to read them. With a different set of tentacles, he crimps the straightened piece of keyring metal around the top of the mug handle, such that the mug now essentially has a small bayonet attached to it, making it useful for both drinking and... stabbing? Franklin Cross mutters, "Right. And I'll... look around a little more myself." He wanders off to do that, and suddenly he feels a lot more grateful for booth babes. As the Cross Party breaks apart to go either weaponize the break room or drift about on their own, Buzzsaw's claws release from the underside of the roof. Dropping down and snapping wings out, the metallic condor zips away from the convention center, darting through the wreckage it used to infiltrate the base the first time, making his Menacing Birdy Way away from Chicago so he can properly report on what he observed to Boss Soundwave! ...And the rest of the Decepticons, one GUESSES. Decepticon Message: 2/77 Posted Author Recon Report: Chicago Weapons Show Fri Aug 10 Buzzsaw ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tis a spinny Decepticon symbol. Hurrrah! "There was a weapons exposition in Chicago the Great Lakes Naval station. I slipped inside their security to observe." Attached is several dozen slugs of data on various basic conventional and normal Human weapons, occasionally with derisive comments on their inventors attached. "However, attending were several individuals of interest." Full pictures of Franklin Cross, Talia McKinley, and That Quintesson Apocryphacius flicker up. "Cross appears to be looking for weaponry upgrades for himself and/or his soldiers. The items he showed interest in were a sort of laser incapacitation system, referred to as the Dazer Lazer Mk IV by its meatsack builders, holographic imaged sights for weaponry, and a sort of infantry portable magnetic induction system, referred to by its builders as the Magnetic Disruptor. The last is the most worrying, in my humble opinion, as it might possibly be able to incapcitate or possibly cripple our forces regardless of personal armoring." Full footage and copied techspecs of the three mentioned weapon systems or upgrades are attached. "...Also, the Quintesson appears to have been weaponizing office supplies. Do not trust it if it has office supplies." Terrible Coffee Mug Bayonet and Syringe Pen pictures are attached. "Buzzsaw, Out." Buzzsaw has uploaded the slug of all raw audio and video for further analysis, in addition to the bits he was paying attention to specifically. SPINNY AGAIN.